


vying for

by nohatoclato



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Butcher and Annie just share him, Dirty Talk, F/F, Facials, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Spanking, hughie/annie is implied but it definitely exists in this universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohatoclato/pseuds/nohatoclato
Summary: Whenever Annie is around, Butcher does this thing.
Relationships: Billy Butcher/Hughie Campbell, Hughie Campbell/Starlight | Annie January
Comments: 13
Kudos: 204





	vying for

Whenever Annie is around, Butcher does this thing.

His neck elongates, showing off the stiff peaks of his Adam’s apple. He puffs up his chest like a bird, he flicks back the tail of his coat to flash the holster of the gun that could do little more than stun her.

He’s showing off, flaunting the alpha status that he’s obsessed with, trying to scare her off like a territorial animal.

They don’t have many reasons to trust one another- Annie is a Supe who works for The Seven, for Vought. Butcher, the man who shot her point blank in the chest is anti-all of those things. Hughie can barely keep them around each other.

So he plays referee, whenever they don’t want to play nice, which is almost all the time, because Hughie’s like a child of people who should be divorced.

Actually that allegory is terrible, because he’d have to be in a sexual relationship with both of his parents for that to be true. So it’s more like a very vicious game of monkey in the middle that Hughie is not sure he’ll ever win.

Annie comes over to the hideout sometimes, for updates, and to drop off gifts, or to pick up Hughie or Kimiko. Basically, she comes over. “Sometimes” is probably an understatement.

When she leaves, it’s bittersweet. Stepping up to Hughie with a winning smile and twinkling dark eyes, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek. Her smell is wonderful.

“See ya later, alligator.” She murmurs in his ear. Her voice is like a kiss, and it never fails to send a bit of a chill down his spine. 

“You, too.” He doesn’t bother with the typical reply, just hugs her close.

He feels eyes on him. The rest of The Boys, yes. They’ll stand around until Annie is gone, hang onto her every pretty word and movement. Butcher’s gaze is a different kind of feeling, steadfast, prickly like a limb had fallen asleep. Hughie can imagine him with that snarl, those intense eyes.

When Annie pulls away, Hughie can tell she’s been looking, too. Her look isn’t really any better.

“Bye, you guys,” Clears her throat. Her words are painted, plain. “See you when I see you.”

“Adios, Starlight,” Butcher closed the space, far quicker than Hughie even realized he could. He uses the hand behind Hughie to wave Starlight off, and when she’s gone, that hand comes down onto the back of his neck. The touch is brief, but Butcher adds the thumb, brushing gently, close to his pulse point.

It’s a tell, Hughie’s not sure exactly what for, but it is, and he does his best to be casual, and contain his little shudder, while the touch burns a memorized hole into the nape of his neck.

Even when Butcher has him against the wall (because the bed is too far away for Butcher’s craving), kissing him sloppily, he can still feel that touch on the back of his neck, burning. 

He manages to wrestle Butcher to the bed, with a moment’s repressive in between to unfasten Butcher’s shoes, shirt, pants before Butcher is pushing him around again, stripping him naked even faster, before he’s even gotten the chance to breathe.

All he needs to breathe is Butcher’s smell, during moments like these, that heady scent like cologne and boot leather. It’s almost perfect, the way their bodies meet, the way Butcher dwarfs all 6-foot-whatever of him to pin him down and fucks him.

The way Butcher fucks him is so good it’s fucking criminal, flattening his chest to the bed and lifting his ass into the air, so that he can use his weight to fuck Hughie to shivering.

“How does that feel?” He drunkenly mutters in Hughie’s ear.

“So good,” Hughie whimpers, rocking his hips the best that he can in his acrobatic position, to get Butcher deeper, closer to his prostate, but Butcher has another agenda.

“Earn it,” He grunts. “If you want it. D’you?”

“Yes,” Hughie’s face is hot and red and his dick is aching between his thighs. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Butcher slouches over Hughie, burying himself absolutely until Hughie can feel him in his throat. “Tell me something. Hm?”

“Yeah. Anything.” The pressure on his prostate is almost terrifying, his cock leaking like a tap, onto his bed. “Anything I’ll do anything, fuck me please.”

“Tell me something,” Butcher growls in his ear. “Tell me I fuck you better than Starlight.”

So that’s what the hell he’s after! Validation, praise. A small victory over Starlight, he’s almost breathless with the need for it. 

Hughie shouldn’t say anything. It would be wrong to say anything, to involve Starlight in anything, so, so wrong. Butcher’s on his own personal agenda, perfectly driven to use Hughie’s body for his ego.

Butcher’s thrusts become slow, and distractingly, he’s avoiding Hughie’s prostate as much as possible, happy making him whine.

“Say it,” Butcher raggedly instructs. “Or is there something you need?”

“Huh?” Hughie can barely breathe. 

“Tell me,” Butcher’s voice grows a sharper edge. “Tell me how to make it better than when she does it. “What do you want?”

  
  


He always means it when he asks, but he doesn’t always ask. Why ask when you already know? When they want what you want?

“Oh  _ God,  _ fuck me. Hard.” He begs. “I like it when you do it like that.”

Butcher actually does it, fucking him so hard that he has to bury his face in his arms to keep from getting whiplash, and for a moment, everything is so good he can almost taste it, if his mouth wasn’t occupied, trying to trap his screams inside. 

With his free hand, he reaches for his nipples, going for the familiar stimulation of a pinch.

He feels Butcher’s hand sliding up as well, trying to be a replacement. Hughie swiftly bats it away.

“No,” He gasps. “I want you to hit me.”

Butcher only slows to ask, “What?”

“Fucking- shit, shit shit. Hit me.”

It’s something he’s never told Butcher that he likes before, at least verbally. It rolled off his tongue before he could think about whether or not Butcher would actually do it.

“Where?” Butcher’s hands sweep down his sides to his ass, and he squeezes quickly, twice. “Here?”

“Yes,” He whines. “Yes, yes, there, God, please. Do it.”

Butcher brings his hand down once, hangs back to see Hughie’s back roll into it, probably staring at the red mark from his huge fucking hand, before he does it again, harder, quicker. Hughie’s ass jiggles with it, clenching around Butcher.

Butcher’s voice is low and calm in his ear. “Oh. He likes a good thrashing.”

  
  


Hughie can literally barely catch up, he’s almost too stimulated. 

“What else.” Butcher’s almost too good. Too good at multitasking, too good at fucking Hughie hard and deep, and spanking Hughie’s ass to a biting sting at the same time, too good at making his words dissolve into watery moans. “What can I give you.”

Everytime Butcher nails his prostate, it takes him a few seconds to calibrate. “I have to come.”

“Yeah?” Butcher’s teasing comes out broken and jagged from exertion. Hughie isn’t going to turn around, but he can bet that his chest is puffed again, in that weird animal way. “That’s what does it for ya?”

His orgasm is so close he doesn’t have time to blush, just releases his nipple, grips his cock, and times the jerks of his hand with Butcher’s perfect thrusts.

As he comes, whiting out, a thought flashes through his head: he could milk this. So to speak. Use Butcher’s jealous energy like a battery. He could get a fuck as generous as this one everytime he riles Butcher up.

That’s fucked up, though. 

Butcher pulls out, and the emptiness is terrible.

“Did you come?” Hughie slurs, running a hand through his hair.

“Roll over.”

With a sigh, Hughie flips over onto his back, right into his own puddle of come. It’s only fine because he feels too good to notice, soft and loose.

Butcher is a sharp contrast, tense, tight, holding his hard cock in his hand as he watches Hughie.

“Yeah?” Hughie says, quite stupidly. The look in his eyes is predatory, yeah, but he’s still feeling so good.

“Come down here, so I can come on your face.”

Hughie blinks. Once, twice. Hand frozen in his hair. All of the fuzziness wears off while he scrabbles to the floor, arranging himself under Butcher’s line of fire. If he could get hard again, he would.

“Look at me.” The instruction makes Hughie realize that his eyes were been half shut, and when he opens them, Butcher’s fist is stripping his cock, a light trail of precum dribbling from the slit. 

“Don’t get it in my eyes,” Hughie says, absentmindedly, leaving his mouth open.

Butcher grunts, barely an assurance, and his strokes get quicker, another hand reaching around to brush Hughie’s hair out of his face, unbearably gentle. 

Hughie can almost fucking  _ taste  _ how much he wants to taste it.  _ Yes _ , the floor is cold under his ass,  _ yes _ he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open,  _ yes _ he would do it until his neck aches. 

“Yeah, good boy.”

He’s some kind of fucking mind reader. Hughie licks his lips.

With a few sharp breaths and a low moan, Butcher’s warm come is on his face, his forehead, narrowly missing his eyes, and dripping down his nose, into his waiting mouth. 

Hughie feels like  _ he’s  _ the one who just came, breathing like he’s just run a mile, staring up at Butcher staring down at him, chest heaving.

“That’s so good.” Hughie’s head kind of dips back when he says it, resting against the bed. 

Butcher doesn’t smile, but the finger he drags through his mess to trace it onto Hughie’s tongue is close enough. 

Hughie laps it up until there’s nothing left, then smears his fingers through the mess near his eyes for another taste. 

Butcher is just watching him, admiring his mess, probably. Hughie had almost forgotten that the whole thing was about his possessiveness, but here he is, wearing Butcher’s mark on his skin, carrying his smell. 

He thinks, as he reaches for Butcher’s hand, guides it to his face to make him mop up his own come, and then to his mouth, so that Hughie can taste it directly from the man’s hand. That’s what Butcher wanted all along, fuck him to make him sweet and easy for it, then claim him with no fuss. It worked, because he really doesn’t mind it. 

“Like a fucking kitten.” Butcher spits, hand relaxed.

Hughie hums, focused on doing a thorough job of cleaning up. When he’s finished, he presses a slow kiss to Butcher’s palm, then fiddles around behind himself for his discarded t-shirt. He pushes it into Butcher’s hand, rubs his hand dry of saliva. 

The fuzziness is back, and he easily arranges himself back onto the bed, wholly prepared to sleep with drying come on his face. 

He can feel Butcher settling next to him. He doesn’t usually, only when they’ve worn each other out. Then, Butcher will sit and wait until Hughie falls asleep. That was creepy, at first. Sometimes, Hughie will wake up and Butcher is curled up, snoring gently. Sometimes he’ll wake up and the bed is empty. Sometimes he’ll wake up and Butcher is fully clothed, just guarding him.

“I don’t want to send you into another jealous rage, but you and Starlight are different to me.” Hughie says, drowsy with sleep. 

Butcher says nothing, but he does breathe through his nose to show Hughie that he’s listening. 

Hughie continues, closing his eyes. “You are two different people. She’s not, like, better than you, and you’re not better than her-”

Butcher scoffs. 

“But I need two different people. I need you.” The “and Starlight” is implied because he’s already walking a tightrope.

Hughie’s drifting, but he swears he hears it, Butcher’s faint, calm rumble. “Go to sleep, Hughie.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> me, relentlessly shaking the h/b and h/b/a tags: WAAAAAAKE UUUUUUUUP


End file.
